


Simmer Down & Pucker Up

by Aspidities



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alpha Lexa, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Daddy Kink, F/F, Knotting, Lapdance, Omega Clarke, Smut, but we all knew this, clarke is a fucking tease, strip club
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-18 04:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13674699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aspidities/pseuds/Aspidities
Summary: Clarke takes Lexa to a strip club to celebrate her promotion. Buying her a lapdance does not go as planned...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by some very awesome nsfw art by @omegawanheda on Tumblr. This will have three chapters, and this part is just plot, so hang onto your panties, the smut is coming up soon. ;)

The strip club had been Clarke’s idea, of course.

Lexa paused at the door, allowing a bored-looking bouncer to briefly pat her down, after which he nodded and proceeded to go back to his phone. She slid her wallet and phone back to her pockets, feeling altogether overly suspicious, and briefly considered just walking out, but Clarke was one of her best friends, after Anya, and it was inevitable that she’d go along with whatever the spunky blonde omega had cooked up. Clarke, meanwhile was excitedly bopping around the seedy-looking curtain at the end of the hall, making ‘come the fuck _on_ ’ noises in her throat, and peeking glimpses behind the thick velvet.

She steeled herself, feeling like a dumb pup, and walked in after her friend, wincing at the heavy thrum of bass thudding from cheap, static-y speakers. There was a table of older alphas, all men, staring at the stage, some younger alphas hooting and waving dollars, and a selection of waitresses meandering around to take drink orders, but the club was mostly empty on a Thursday night, which was all the better. Lexa didn’t want to run the risk of seeing anyone from work here. She knew Indra and a few other of her alpha buddies liked to hit the clubs, but usually they’d wait for the weekend. This had been a spur of the moment deal, brought on by Clarke’s irresistible impetuousness after hearing that Lexa had gotten the promotion she’d worked so hard for.

She still didn’t know why she’d texted Clarke first. They hadn’t been friends all that long, only thrown together by the chaos and politics of work, and if anything, Anya would’ve normally been her first choice. But for some reason when Titus told her the job was hers if she wanted it, her hand had fairly flown to her pocket to text Clarke. The omega had been so excited she’d barely contained herself, and as usual that did things to the little tight places in Lexa’s chest….

Lexa shuddered and quickly covered it with a shrug as she looked at Clarke, trying not to take in the blonde’s shapely curves in her cocktail skirt and blouse. She hadn’t had time to change into anything special, herself, and felt underdressed and out of place in her simple black jeans and buttoned flannel. She’d need to loosen it a few buttons; this place was stiflingly hot and smelled of spilled alcohol and perfume, as well as the heavy undertone of musk; thick, hot alpha arousal.

Instead of being oppressed by the stink of alpha, Clarke’s eyes seemed to sparkle, and her lips were wet. Lexa was uncomfortably mesmerized as they sat down at a table and she thumbed through the laminated bar menu, undoubtably looking for the most embarrassingly-named drink she could find. True to form, she found the ‘Tonya Hard-On’ and pointed exuberantly, waving the menu card in front of Lexa’s face to get her attention.

The brunette brushed the card aside, rolling her eyes. She adjusted her collar once more, feeling uncomfortable, and leaned closer to Clarke. “Aren’t you on edge here? It’s all alphas.”

Clarke’s lips looked plush as a pillow and she had to force her eyes back up as the omega laughed heartily. “Lexa, you shy baby! No, I don’t get intimidated by musk, _silly_ , or the sports bar would be a real treat as well.”

Her laugh was a trilling golden thing that drew the eye of every male in the place, even with naked flesh on display, and Lexa bristled, reflexively feeling the hairs on her neck stand up. She rubbed them down, eyes darting around to every corner as she gulped. “But I mean, it’s so objectifying to omegas here….Aren’t you offended, even a bit?”

Clarke’s eyes followed hers, to the cages where mostly female omegas danced, entirely nude or in stages of undress, as alphas, mostly men, circled and stared like sharks. On the center stage, a lithe female omega with gorgeous cinnamon-gold skin was circling a pole. Her body an s-shape against the tall metal as she snaked around, twirling her hips in slow pivoting figure-eights. Every few moments she lost another item of clothing, to the hoots of the alphas.

Lexa looked away, hurriedly, and coughed as she pretended to consider the food menu, but it was too late; Clarke had seen her staring, and her lips curled up like a cat’s.

“I think it’s _hot_ , personally.” The blonde said, so casually it made Lexa’s heart pound. “I like when I know an alpha wants me, and I think some of these omegas feel the same way. Doesn’t hurt to get paid bank in the process.”

Lexa snorted in agreement. “Hadn’t thought about that aspect.”

“Oh yeah,” Clarke chortled. “You alphas are _so_ easy to part from your wallets. The girls don’t even have to get touched unless they want to and you’ll still throw cash at them. Deny it.”

Her eyes were twinkling but there was a hint of jealousy there, under the play. Lexa felt her inner alpha rumble to see it, thrilling to the idea of making Clarke want her. She played it off as nonchalantly as she could, shrugging.

“Depends on the omega. But, if I’m going to look, I usually wanna touch. Seems like just looking wouldn’t be enough.”

Clarke’s eyes flashed a stormy sea for the briefest of moments, before she restored her usual playful blue sparkle, tossing her head in a grin.

“Oh you can’t do anything but look here. That big bouncer you saw will toss your alpha ass out in a second. But an omega can get away with anything here. We’re ‘non-threatening’; you get the idea.” She took a look around and then her eyes lit up as she landed on an approaching waitress. “Watch this.”

The waitress had spied them and made her way from the bar, holding a notepad and wearing a cheery smile alongside her apron with the club name ( _Arkadia_ ) emblazoned across her crotch. She was a heavily tattooed beta, with an intricate arching dragon done in black and red ink, that went from her shoulder down her spine, emerging in places along her midriff and upper thigh. The short-shorts she was wearing revealed the tail was curled around her ass-cheek.

Lexa realized what Clarke meant to do as the waitress merrily took their drink orders, sharing a laugh with Clarke over the name of hers, but she was helpless to stop it. She gripped the table instead, hard, as Clarke leaned over, faux-friendly, and traced her fingers along the edge of the dragon’s scales that she could see under the waitress’ uniform t-shirt.

“This is a beautiful piece,” she trilled innocently, her voice an octave girlier than normal and her lashes batting a thousand. “How big is it? Did it take long?”

The waitress looked delighted and raised her top obligingly to display the underside of her bra as she helpfully guided Clarke’s fingers up her rib cage, making Lexa hurry to have to stifle a moan. “Thank you! It took twelve hours, but I’m in love with the detail. See the claws, here?”

Clarke raised her head and shot Lexa a clear smug glance over the waitress’ unknowing shoulder as she replied, still in that oh-so-friendly tone. “Oh wow, that’s _so_ rad, I love it! You should tell me the artist’s name so I can follow them on Instagram.”

“Oh yeah! You should, it’s-“

But Lexa wasn’t listening anymore. Her fingers gouged tiny splinters from the underside of the cheap wooden table and she had to bite her lip to keep from groaning. Her clit waved, excited and stiff, and she crossed her legs to keep it from extending. The last things she wanted was to stand up with an erection around Clarke. The two women maintained a happy, babbling banter about tattoos, and Clarke even pulled the strap of her dress aside to display her upper collarbone, where two guns rested back to back in black ink. That produced further _ooh_ -ing and _aww_ -ing and then _more_ touching, until finally the waitress collected their menus and went off, happily reminding Clarke to follow the artist.

“I will!” Clarke called, waving, and then turned back to Lexa with a Cheshire Cat smile.

“You proved your point.” Lexa grated, through her teeth. Her clit was swelling happily but she rubbed her legs together, trying to force it back down. _Not now, you idiot. Do not go to stage two, I REPEAT: do not go to stage two._

“Omegas rule, alphas drool.” Clarke asserted smugly.

“Omegas rule, alphas drool.” Lexa repeated obligingly. “I already knew that, Clarke, I’m not an idiot like….like those guys.” She gestured to the front of the center stage, where a boisterous young group of alphas were rapidly divesting themselves of dollar bills in a fluttering rain.

Clarke’s fingers curled into hers across the table, surprising her. “I know you’re not, Lexa. I didn’t bring you here to make you feel awkward, I brought you here to celebrate, so I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Lexa rushed to say, feeling her face heat at the contact. “I’m having fun. Watching you have your way with that beta was…uh…something.” She let her lips curl up.

“Oh you ain’t seen nothing yet, alpha.” Clarke’s lips rose in a challenging grin, and her fingers played on the inside of Lexa’s wrist, but just then, the waitress returned with their drinks, and she pulled back to accept hers, cooing with the beta over the candied fruit on the rim. Lexa wiped her hand gratefully on her pants, feeling sweaty, and nodded her thanks, taking a deep sip of her whiskey. It burned as it went down, and she coughed, wiping her mouth.

 _Don’t get drunk_ , she warned herself cautiously. _You might start to let your mouth run away with you._

 


	2. Chapter 2

Clarke was already feeling like she’d let her mouth do some running.

She sipped her own drink, giving Lexa quick, guilty looks over the rim of her glass. The alpha hadn’t said anything to indicate her discomfort since the little show Clarke put on for her with the beta waitress, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t still uncomfortable and not saying it. Clarke knew Lexa; she was too polite to ever speak up about her needs or her feelings. Once again, she questioned over and over in her head the decision to bring the alpha here.

_Why a strip club, Clarke? Why not just bring her to a live sex show and say ‘Hey this is what I want you to do to me, have at’??_

But she couldn’t answer herself. When Lexa had texted her about the promotion, her original idea had been to take the alpha out dancing, and then vetoed that on the grounds that she wouldn’t be able to resist dancing with her, grinding up on her….Yeah, that one was out. But a strip club? That wasn’t any better. In her wild, chaotic reasoning earlier this afternoon, she’d decided a strip club would be fun, that they could get tipsy and look at naked girls together, and maybe that would foster more of the friendship feelings in her, rather than the lust.

She didn’t know why she thought that would work. For one thing, the alpha was in a flannel with her sleeves rolled up, and that _always_ made her sweat bullets, and for another, the lust wasn’t going anywhere as she watched Lexa watching the omegas on stage. It was only increasing in volume. Her jealousy was right there with it, flaring up like a summer thunderstorm.

 _Why did I think this would be fun?_ She cursed herself internally. Her friend was one of the only female alphas present, and certainly the most attractive. Lexa was getting a lot of attention from the omegas. Several had circled the table already, offering lap dances and conspicuously touching Lexa’s forearm tattoos in the same way Clarke had done to the beta earlier. Lexa seemed oblivious to this tactic, despite having already seen Clarke demonstrate its effectiveness, and, naively obliging, rolled up her sleeve so that an attentive brunette could lean closer and look.

That was entirely too much. Clarke had to clear her throat and let out a strong push of possessive pheromone before the other omega got the hint and shot her an apologetic, worried look before hurrying away. Lexa had also caught wind, and her brow crinkled in confusion, looking around for the source of the scent as her nostrils flared.

Clarke discreetly waved it away, mentally kicking herself. _That’s not your alpha_ , she told her unhappy inner omega, who was kicking up a distressed wave of hormones;  _quit acting stupid._

“So, uhm…” She had to clear her throat again before she could continue. “Do you see anyone you like?” She tried to inject a teasing note into her tone, and it seemed to work.

Lexa arched a brow at her. “Trying to suss out my type, Griffin?”

There, that was more like it. Banter was always accessible to Clarke.

“Already got you pegged, Woods.” She sassed back, leaning over her drink and almost stabbing herself with the plastic umbrella. “You like a gentle little lamb. I bet you’d pick the least tattooed girl here.”

Lexa looked at her, and that one look was enough to make her knees weak and her panties drenched. Her eyes were dark, forest-deep and there was a hint of tension there, like a taut wire. “You don’t know at all what I like, then.”

Clarke swallowed slowly, unable to take her eyes away, for a long, searing moment as the alpha dipped her lips to her drink, wetting them. A tiny drop of amber liquid pearled at the corner of her mouth and trickled down the side of her jawline. Clarke almost wept with the urge to follow it with her own lips. She shook her head.

“That’s true, I don’t.” She parried, trying to regain her footing in the conversation. “You never dish with the other alphas in the break room, so I don’t know what kind of omega or beta you’d be banging, given the choice.”

Lexa snorted and raised a brow at her crude choice of words, but Clarke waved a hand at her impatiently. “Or dating, _whatever_. My point is….boys? Girls? Omegas? Betas? Blondes? Brunettes?” She rolled her eyes and waved behind her at the stage. “I’m pretty sure they’d have a redhead or two if you prefer a ginger.”

Lexa laughed, and it was low and heavy, the kind that indicated she’d had a bit of her drink. “Redheads are fun.” She agreed, taking another draught. “But not usually my thing.”

“So what _is_ your thing, then?” Clarke was getting impatient. She didn’t know why she wanted an answer to this question right _now_ , but she did and it was growing more and more important to her.

Lexa leveled her green-forest gaze onto Clarke, and it nearly took her breath away. “Girls.” The alpha confirmed, after a short pause. “Omegas or betas, doesn’t matter.” After another, longer pause, in which her hesitancy was almost crystal clear: “Blondes.”

Clarke’s mouth went dry instantly. She took a strong swig of her fruity concoction and steeled herself, warning her inner omega: _she didn’t mean you, specifically, she meant blonde omegas. You pushed her for an answer._ But her inner omega was uncurling, purring, sending heat to her thighs and to her cheeks, she could feel it. _This was a bad idea_ , she thought, not for the first time.

She let her eyes scan away from Lexa, who was giving her a strange look, and darted around the club, looking up and down at each level. She wasn’t even sure what she was looking for until she found it; a blonde omega dancer working the upper floor, leaning to talk to a pair of alphas with appreciative grins.

_There. Perfect._

A plan formulated in her mind. It was a sloppy, hastily-constructed one, and there was a large part of her that was internally cringing at her own lack of deeper thought, but she was blundering forward with it, regardless, before she realized what she was truly doing. She caught the blonde’s attention with a wave, and the omega started to saunter over, her hips shifting like the waves of the ocean.

“Clarke. What are you doing?” Lexa’s voice was bemused, but there was an edge to it. The alpha’s eyes were dark, and her hands dawdled on the rim of her drink.

Clarke turned back to look at her coworker and lifted her shoulders faux-innocently.

“What? We’re in a strip club. You said you like blonde omegas. There’s one right there.” Clarke leaned over the table and lifted her chin, challenging the alpha with her stare. “I’m gonna buy you a dance.”

“Clarke, _don’t_ -“

But the blonde dancer had already reached them.

“Hey sweetie,” she purred, running her hands down Clarke’s arm. Her face was bored, transactionary. She probably did this a dozen times a night, and omega or no omega, Clarke was just another face to her. Her eyes flickered appreciatively when she saw Lexa, however, and Clarke’s mouth tightened as the scent of arousal in the air wafted to her nose. The other omega didn’t seem to notice, or else just didn’t care. She produced a half-lidded, sexual smile. “You waved?”

Clarke swallowed her resentments with a second swig of her drink. “Sure did.” She plastered a false smile on her face and jabbed an elbow at Lexa’s blushing form, hunched over her whiskey. “My friend here just got a promotion. She’s gonna need a dance.”

Lexa wildly shook her head, glaring, but, once again, the other omega didn’t appear to notice or mind. She slipped from Clarke’s arm to Lexa’s, running her fingers down the lean length of the alpha’s muscled bicep, tracing the exposed tattooed length under her flannel. “Oh? Is that so, honey?”

 _Sweetie. Honey. You’ve got to be kidding me. Did she learn that at Stereotypical Stripper School?_ Clarke forced her lip from curling into a sneer, and guilt flooded her brain instantly. _Oh damn, did you learn that jealousy at Stereotypical Omega Academy?_ She sniped back at herself, feeling ashamed.

Lexa wasn’t hers, the omega wasn’t at fault, and this whole stupid thing was her idea anyway. She leaned back and fished in her wallet for a handful of twenties. Sliding them into the omega’s barely-existent waistband, she pointed to Lexa. “Oh, she’s _shy_ , but you’ll take care of her, right?”

The other blonde cocked a head at her, and for a moment she felt a guilty flash, as if the dancer had seen right through her muddled, jealous thoughts.

“I certainly will.” She murmured, drawing Lexa to her stumbling feet, and regarding Clarke through half-lidded, murky eyes. “Your friend here is being very generous, gorgeous. Come with me and let’s celebrate your _hard_ work.”

She beckoned, casually, and Lexa cast a terrified glance back at Clarke.

“I’m not-“ She started to protest, but Clarke shook her head, grinning. The awkwardness in the alpha’s normally-collected demeanor was very nearly its own reward. “Clarke, quit smiling, _damn_ it, I told you-“

The omega dancer caught her chin with one smooth hand. “Aw, you really are shy.” She shot an unreadable look back at Clarke, and a sly smile played on her lips. “Maybe you’d feel better if we brought your friend along, too.”

 _Oh no. That wasn’t the plan_. Clarke’s eyes widened and she waved her hands.

“I, uh-“

“C’mon now, don’t be shy too.” The dancer’s cheery tone brooked no argument. She was clearly going to insist, and, from the desperate look on Lexa’s face, if Clarke didn’t come along, the alpha would bolt. Green eyes were already shifting hopefully back toward the entrance, but Clarke steeled herself and took hold of Lexa’s shoulder in a firm grip.

“No chickening out, Woods.” She was speaking to both of them as she said it. Her own nerves wouldn’t have minded a headlong dash back to the door, but she forced them down. She downed the last of her drink and half-steered Lexa after the dancer, who was beckoning them towards a secondary set of velvet curtains, up the scant stairs.

The curtains brushed her face and a blast of warm air from the interior of the lapdance rooms made her realize how drunk she was, and how flushed her face must be. She dropped her hand from Lexa’s back, and the alpha gave her a questioning look. She shook her head, trying for a devil-may-care smile, and tottered unsteadily towards the last room, where the other omega had unlocked the door with a silver key.

Inside, the air smelled of alpha cum under a thin layer of lemon disinfectant. The walls were no doubt coated in it. Despite her logical disgust, the idea set a shiver of primal arousal through Clarke’s veins. _I wonder what Lexa’s cum smells like. Tastes like. Feels like_ inside….

She bit her lip and found the omega dancer smiling at her knowingly, as if she’d read her mind. She guided Clarke to a fake leather armchair that looked like it had seen better days, and motioned for her to sit.

There was a similar armchair in another corner, patched with duct tape, but aside from that, the only other furniture in the dingy, black-walled room was a table with an iPod dock and some speakers, with a little basket of condoms and handi-wipes beside it, and, in the center of the room, a simple wooden chair. It lacked arms, had a high, strong back, and was bolted to the floor.

Clearly the dancers at this club liked their lap dances…acrobatic.

Lexa was wavering by the door, clearly uncertain, but the dancer took her simply but firmly by the elbow and propelled her to the chair.

“Relax, gorgeous,” the dancer murmured, just loud enough for Clarke to hear, as she seated the alpha, running her hands briefly down Lexa’s thighs. “Let’s get the nerves out of those green eyes, hmm?”

The omega sauntered over to the iPod and took her time selecting a song. It was long enough for Clarke to catch Lexa’s nervous eyes, and see how her hands clenched on her pants, damp with sweat. She tried to smile reassuringly, and lifted her eyebrows playfully, as if to say _You’re gonna enjoy this_. Internally, however, her omega was howling, raging for her to kick the challenger out and jump on the alpha’s lap herself. How much ‘dancing’ would be involved was probably nil. Her hands clenched on the cheap ripped material of the chair and she swallowed what felt like a large lump in her throat.

A heavy bass beat began from the iPod, and Clarke could think no more. The omega dancer’s hips were moving, slow and thick like molasses, but stirring up demons with each whispering figure-eight, and she was approaching Lexa with smoldering intent, curling her lacquered fingertips and smiling. Each clack of her heels on the ground was like a gunshot.

Clarke grit her teeth and held onto the chair for dear life as she watched the stripper lower herself onto the alpha’s lap. Lexa’s green eyes widened like a deer in the headlights. Sweat beaded on the alpha’s furrowed brow, as the dancer omega tossed her brassy blonde mane over one shoulder and put her hand on Lexa’s strong chest, fingers splayed. Her hips made circling, slithering contact with the not-insignificant bulge in the alpha’s jeans, and Clarke jealously watched as the thickness grew in size under the shifting hips of the other blonde.

A rage was building within her, like a banking fire. It seared along her veins as she watched the omega roll her body along the long, lean length of the brunette alpha. _Mine, mine, mine._ Lexa was sweating under her flannel, hands white knuckled on the wood of the chair as she helplessly watched the swaying breasts that were brought ever closer to her face. The dancer smiled and leaned down to the corded, pulsing expanse of the alpha’s neck, whispering in her ear, and Lexa sucked in a breath, her eyes roving wildly to Clarke’s piercing gaze. The dancer guided her hands, allowing them to cup her rounded ass, and slithered on Lexa’s lap, wrapping her arms around the alpha’s shoulders. She leaned in again, to whisper something else, and the alpha let out a quiet groan, clenching her fingers into the omega’s ass, bringing her swiveling hips down….

Somewhere inside Clarke, a dam broke.

Clarke stood up from her seated position on the chair in one aggressively-fast motion. She cleared her throat, loudly, and the dancer looked in askance back at her. Lexa almost looked in a trance, eyes rounded and dark.

“That’s enough.” She said, sharper than she’d intended, but she couldn’t force herself to entirely care. Her finger slammed down onto the pause button on the iPod and the sound abruptly cut out. “Dance is over. Thanks for your time.”

The dancer only gaped at her, as did Lexa. Clarke fished for another wad of twenties from her pocket and walked over to the chair. The other omega flared at her as she approached, just a little, but enough to indicate her own enjoyment in the alpha’s arousal. Clarke swallowed and resisted the urge to knock her off Lexa’s lap. But the dancer must’ve realized her misstep, and her eyes were briefly chagrined. The blonde pulled herself off of Lexa’s hardening erection (still stridently poking against the alpha’s straining jeans) and cocked a questioning brow at Clarke, who soothed her with reassuring pheromones and the kindest smile she could manage.

“Really, _seriously_ , thanks, but we’re good here, you did fantastic.” She slid the cash into her fellow omega’s palm, folding her fingers closed. “And this is extra for leaving us in here for the next thirty minutes.”

That, the dancer definitely seemed to understand. A slow grin of realization spread across the other blonde’s face and she glanced quickly back at the stunned alpha, who was looking at Clarke like she’d grown a pair of wings and flown twice around the room. The dancer nodded, once, and that was all it took.

“Have fun, you two.” She tossed over her shoulder, slipping the cash into her bra and leaving the room as fluidly as she’d come in. “Remember. Thirty minutes is all you get.”

Clarke nodded back, in firm understanding, but inside her gut was turning into knotted strands and she was shaking with anxiety as the door clicked shut. _Oh my God, Griffin, what are you doing? What in the fuck are you-_ She cut herself off, shaking her head before her thoughts could spiral into insecure panic and turned back to Lexa. She arranged her face into what she hoped was a halfway-seductive smile, and put her hand on the alpha’s shoulder, feeling the bunching strength of the muscles below her grasp.

“Don’t worry, Woods. I know you’re confused, but I’m not gonna bite.” She resisted the obvious joke, and leaned in, catching the alpha’s chin with her fingertips. Lexa’s aroused scent swelled in her nostrils and she had to close her eyes for a moment, swooning in desire, before she regained her composure.

“But I am gonna rock the _hell_ outta your world for the next thirty minutes. No way that omega has anything on me when it comes to lapdancing.” She finished, with far more confidence than she actually felt, and tossed a suggestive wink over her shoulder as she left the stunned alpha squeezing the wood of the chair.

She threw an extra roll into her hips, knowing she had more generous padding than the skimpy blonde that had just left. Clarke was hoping her curves would be Lexa’s thing. She was feeling incredibly insecure about this whole idea, but to hell with it. Drink and jealousy had spurred her on, and she was damned if she wasn’t going to see this through.

It only took her a minute to find a perfect song. It was as if she’d wrote it for this occasion. She pressed play on the iPod and rolled her hair out of its rough bun, gripping the table as she looked back at Lexa.

 _Sink or swim_ , she thought, _it’s time to kill this crush. With kindness._

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, the final chapter! I hope everyone had a great Valentine’s, and if you’re single enjoy this with some chocolate, because shit’s about to get filthy. <3

_Oh. My. God._

That was all Lexa could think. She was pretty sure her mouth was agape, as the speakers sprang to life once more and the thrumming, pulsing beat began like an evil heartbeat. But she wasn’t staring at the iPod, dingy white and covered in fingerprints from constant grungy-palmed use. She was staring at Clarke, rolling her hips in a casual circle as she tossed her golden hair over one shoulder, biting her lip to smile back Lexa.

 _Are you really gonna do this?_ She asked Clarke with her eyes, searching.

 _Yeah, yeah I am._ The mischievous blue seemed to sparkle right back.

 _Oh my_ fucking _God._

Lexa’s train of thought derailed like an Amtrak hitting a curve at 80mph. Clarke, her Clarke, the coworker she’d had a wild-lust crush on for about three months now, was going to give her a lapdance. And, judging by the even swaying of her hips, and the slow undulation of her body as she leaned back against the table to gave Lexa a half-lidded smile….she was going to be _really_ fucking good at it.

Lexa recognized the music in some half-aware part of her brain, but the rest of her was slack-jawed and dry-mouthed, gaping at the blonde omega as she approached; stalking forward in heels that were shorter than the stripper’s but, dangerously, just as sexy. She had time to think: _Isn’t this the Arctic Monkeys…?_

But then Clarke was straddling her, and the inner alpha she so often restrained had broken free of its cage and was hammering against her heart like a caveman with a club.

Clarke’s hair brushed against her face and she inhaled, closing her eyes as her hands clenched desperately on the wood. She smelled an expensive perfume, a layer of fabric softener, and under that, the sweetness and salt that was purely Clarke, purely _omega_. Her fingers clenched, longing to touch, but she remembered what Clarke had said earlier about alphas in the club, and she held firm on the chair’s edge, fingers quivering. But even that didn’t help her, as she felt the silken whisper of Clarke’s skirt graze her knuckles, and then, shortly after, the tantalizing glide of her sheer stockings as the omega’s legs positioned on either side.

The beleaguered alpha couldn’t help but let out a whimper, then, as Clarke chuckled softly and guided her hands from the near-splintered wood of the chair to the smooth globes of her ass, covered by the thin, clinging nylon of her skirt. Lexa opened her eyes in a flash and caught Clarke’s searching gaze, but the omega smiled reassuringly at her, and moved her hands to brush a sweaty strand of hair from Lexa’s face.

“Hold on tight,” she instructed, and Lexa nodded helplessly. Clarke’s breath was sweet and her lips slick with gloss, a candy-coated dreamland. She was grinding slowly down, hips rolling, and her knees pinned Lexa’s legs in place, keeping her trapped even if she wanted to escape (which the alpha certainly did not). The gentle, whisper-soft brush of her skirt-covered pelvis rocking against Lexa’s bulge was a terribly intoxicating kind of torture.

_I’m sorry to interrupt/It’s just I’m constantly on the cusp/ Of trying not to kiss you…_

The singer’s voice whined and the bass reverberated and Clarke’s breath trailed hot steam patterns against the beating pulse in Lexa’s neck. The alpha tightened her grip, digging her nails into the blonde’s plush ass, and she let out a soft growl, tilting to allow Clarke better access. The omega took the hint, and greedily inhaled next to Lexa’s jawline, letting Lexa know she appreciated her alpha scent by wriggling down harder, grinding against her stiffening cock.

_I don’t know if you/Feel the same as I do/But we could be together if you wanted to…_

Clarke’s fingers trailed down, possessively splaying over the spot on Lexa’s sternum where the dancer had left her hand, and began a series of low rolls, her fabric-covered pussy brushing against Lexa’s cock more deliberately, more obviously, and the alpha’s growling became louder, deeper. _This is going far_ , Lexa realized, dimly, in the far-away logical part of her brain, and maybe too far, but she couldn’t stop it. The primitive part of her had almost completely taken over. Well, almost. The drive inside of her to buck upwards and fill, to mate, was strong, but she gripped into Clarke’s ass, trying with all her near-saintly-might not to thrust.

She nearly lost the battle when Clarke leaned back and smiled her wicked, pink-lipped smile as her hands went to the buttons of her smart little cocktail blouse, undoing them one by one in with decadent slowness. She shrugged out of the two halves, exposing her breasts, covered with a hint of white lace.

“It’s a strip club, right?” She asked, faux-innocently, and Lexa audibly groaned, eyes half-closing.

The blouse fluttered down to the ground and was forgotten. All Lexa could see was the creamy tops of Clarke’s breasts, pulsing with blue veins pumping her hot blood, and her mind was totally blank. She may have let out a whimper; she didn’t know. She dug her hands into Clarke’s ass, unconsciously flexing her fingers as if she was fondling her breasts, and the omega gave a little hitching breath that was steadily erasing all of the alpha’s thought processes.

She was slithering against Lexa, nails bunched in the fabric of her flannel, taking advantage of the chair’s bolted legs by rocking her whole body weight up and down. Clarke’s breasts rose to brush against her face, and her pelvis slid against the alpha’s rock-hard cock, threatening to burn away the seams of denim holding it in place. She did this in slow, revolving figure eights, and then she’d glide down, letting her hair fill Lexa’s face in a glorious, scented mass, and her nose would nudge against the alpha’s pulse, while she humped and rocked indecorously against Lexa’s jean-coated thigh.

Lexa could _smell_ her, and it was driving her mad. She knew Clarke’s panties were wet, and she could practically feel the dampness spread against the rough crotch of her jeans, and her hands crept up the skirt, pushing up the nylon until it was more of a belt, really. She cupped and kneaded at Clarke’s lace-covered ass, and growled into the omega’s neck as she experimentally thrust upwards, pushing against her. Clarke definitely liked that, and she draped herself into Lexa’s corded neck, giving hot little sighs of encouragement into her ear, as she threaded her nails through the sparse curls at the alpha’s nape. The omega’s generously-rounded hips rubbed and jerked, and the denim bulged and strained as Lexa’s cock grew fully hard and demanded attention.

Her jeans were rapidly becoming painful, and her underwear bunched, abraded with the rubbing. Lexa longed to unzip and fish herself out from her Calvin Kleins, to feel the heat through Clarke’s panties on her throbbing dick. She shifted subtly below the omega, and let out a tiny whine through her teeth, frustration lighting her nerves aflame as every part of her tried to keep from putting her hands further, reaching for more...

 _I can’t_ , she realized, as something like lustful panic set in, _I have to fuck her. She’s practically humping my cock. She can’t expect me to-_

But she still didn’t know _what_ Clarke expected. This whole situation had spiraled out of control so quickly that they hadn’t even gone past some idle flirting at the table and now this was happening, _definitely_ happening, even as her mind spun with the what ifs and the consequences. There was too much confusion, and she couldn’t focus. The only thing she could think or feel was the insistent rocking and pressing of Clarke’s undulating, beautiful body whispering and writhing against her.

The song cut out, but neither of them heard it. The bass beat from outside was too loud anyway, and one noise replaced the other, seamlessly. Lexa’s brain had narrowed down to a tiny white point at which Clarke was the only incandescent thing she saw, and the pulsing heat of her overwhelmed and decimated her senses. Her hands roamed; she could no longer stop them. Her fingers curled over the edge of Clarke’s panties at her hip, and her fingers pressed there, longingly, as her eyes swept into the omega’s hazy blue gaze, searching.

Clarke was biting her lip and looking down at Lexa through a golden wheat field tumble of hair, and even as her hips rose and fell with the rocking, she was flushed and shivering, lost in lust. Her pupils had dilated, and her lips were glossy-wet, moistened by her flickering tongue. Lexa couldn’t help herself. She arched up, and caught those lips in a kiss, one hand sliding from Clarke’s hip to her breast.

The omega moaned immediately into her mouth, and they melted together, lips pressing and tongues darting with slick heat. Daring as the kiss was, there was no fear in Lexa when she felt Clarke’s receptivity, and she bit at her prize’s mouth, sucking her tongue with a slow, dragging tease that left the omega whimpering. She rolled her knuckles over a rosy nipple barely restrained by lace, and felt it poke up to tease her palm, and felt Clarke writhe against her in response, arching. She was intoxicated. Drunk on more than just whiskey and musk and pheromones. Drunk on Clarke.

“ _Fuck_.” Clarke broke off and moaned by her ear. “What happened to no touching?” Her voice was breathless, and teasing but her eyes were dark and her hips kept moving, slowly.

Lexa didn’t respond, only growled and roamed down Clarke’s neck, raking her teeth over the ridges of her collarbone to make the omega jump. “Fuck your rules, fuck your game,” she rumbled, finally, eyes glittering. “I want _you_.”

“Oh God, Lexa, you can have me, you can have _all_ of me. You could’ve been having me for _months_ , I want-“

But Clarke’s impassioned declaration of what she wanted was swallowed by the alpha’s greedy mouth, moaning and thrusting her tongue inside. Lexa had had enough, quite frankly. She was harder than she’d been in her life, bursting along the seams, and she needed release, quickly. She flicked the clasp of Clarke’s bra, flung it to one side and let her breasts fall into her hands, moaning appreciatively into the omega’s gasps at the weight and roundness of them. The dusky-pink of her nipples was becoming a blushing rose as she teased them into firmness, dropping her mouth from Clarke’s to pepper kisses along each pebbling areola.

It still wasn’t enough, though. _More_ , Lexa’s alpha brain insisted, and for once, she agreed. She urged Clarke up, and off her lap.

“Stand up.” She ordered, and hoped fervently that Clarke wouldn’t mind the firmness, but the dominant part of her brain wasn’t particularly worried about what Clarke minded anymore. She needed to thrust and rut and her primitive self had taken over. The Lexa Woods who smiled shyly behind her glasses two desks over from Clarke Griffin wouldn’t treat her crush this way, but that Lexa was gone now, shattered into oblivion from two stiff drinks and two successive lap dances, and the Lexa that remained was rough and harsh in her need.

Clarke stood, somewhat shakily, and started to give Lexa a sly, teasing look, before the alpha stood up with her and caught her up again in a kiss as her hands eagerly unzipped and pushed the skirt to the omega’s ankles.

“Take it off,” the alpha ordered, breathless against her lips, and Clarke obligingly stepped out.

“You wanna fuck me right here?” The omega purred, dragging her nails across Lexa’s chest, unbuttoning her flannel as she clenched at the shirt, trying to pull it up.

Lexa caught her hand and kissed her again, hard and demanding, tongue sweeping her mouth. There wasn’t time for her to undress, not in the state she was in. And something fierce and dominant inside her liked the idea of being clothed while the omega was naked; asserting her control as she stripped her prize.

There wasn’t even time to take off Clarke’s panties or her thigh-highs; negotiating them over the heels would take time, and Lexa was impatient, too impatient to wait. Instead, she pulled the fabric of the omega’s underwear roughly to one side and swept her fingers over the luscious wet warmth that had so thoroughly teased her cock. Slickness quickly coated her hand and wrist and Clarke’s knees buckled as she cried out, sagging into Lexa’s firm grip.

“Yeah, I’m gonna fuck you right here.” Lexa huffed into her ear, sending another appreciative shockwave through the blonde. “That’s what you wanted. That’s why you paid extra. You’re gonna get what you wanted.”

She spun Clarke around, and the omega made a little protesting noise before Lexa’s other, unoccupied hand pressed firmly down at her spine. “Bend over.” The alpha instructed harshly. “Grip the chair.”

“ _Fuck_ …” Clarke gasped out, helpless to do anything but obey, and Lexa grinned smugly as more wetness gushed over her playing, exploring fingers. She grazed the omega’s reddened, swollen clit, and had to smother a gasp herself at how the little bud throbbed in response.

Nudging Clarke’s legs further apart with her knees, she positioned herself between them, and brought her wet fingers to her mouth, moaning around the sweetness as she sucked them clean. Clarke tasted like a blue-water ocean, tangy like pineapple but meltingly hot like sunlight, and so damn good the alpha nearly abandoned her quest to burrow her face between those quivering thighs. She managed to refocus only because her need was so great; her cock was aching and painfully hard in her pants.

Clarke heard the zipper go down and her whole body quivered. “Oh my god,” she hissed through her teeth, looking back at Lexa as she fished her cock out of the slit of her underwear and the fly of her jeans. “Of course you’re big. How did I not _know_ that you’d be big?” Clarke babbled wantonly and arched her back, moaning. “Jesus, just put it in me already.”

Lexa throbbed to fulfill that request. She put a hand on Clarke’s hip, drawing her close, as she fisted her already-soaked length, coated in her generous pre-come, trying to line up with the omega’s sodden entrance. But then a sudden, precarious thought occurred to her and she looked over to the basket of condoms. “Clarke, hang on, let me get-“

Clarke saw where she was looking and nearly sobbed in frustration, hands curling on the wooden back of the chair. “No, don’t, I’m on birth control, and I know you haven’t been with anyone since Costia, so just….just- _fuck_ , Lexa, just fuck me, or I swear I’ll scream.”

“You’ll do that anyway.” Lexa warned through a grin and thrust forward.

Despite that confident assurance, the first attempt was a miss, thanks to their combined wetness, and she glided the tip accidentally against Clarke’s clit, drawing a vibrating moan from both of them as her shaft pulsed between the omega’s outer lips. Panting, she used her fingers to line up better on the next thrust, and her glistening, broad cockhead pushed inside, as Clarke’s tightness closed over her tip.

They both cried out, and Lexa had to pause to stop herself from exploding right there. She could feel her base tightening, and pressure built up like a mountain in her shaft, forming the start of a knot. She needed to get it all in, and quickly, or that wouldn’t be an option, later.

Grunting through her teeth, she instinctively bit lightly onto Clarke’s shoulder, not enough to leave a mark, but enough that the omega gasped and shuddered under her, and her pussy blossomed open, accepting the next few inches of the alpha’s length with ease. Together, they groaned and Lexa’s hips jerked involuntarily, giving the omega another third of her substantial girth, and Clarke cursed into the chair, dripping saliva and sweat as well as her own arousal.

“Shit, fuck, God you feel so good…. _unnhh_ …so fucking _good_.” Clarke panted, tossing her hair back to look into the alpha’s eyes with lusty, darkened pupils. “Don’t hold back…give it to me.”

Lexa wanted to say something smart like _be careful what you wish for_ but what came out instead was a growling moan, gravelly and low. She was beyond speech at this point, but she wasn’t about to slam herself in. Not when the omega’s pussy was like a snug, velvety vice grip around her, forcefully holding her in place, despite Clarke’s pleading. The last thing she wanted was to cause her new lover any pain, no matter how both their instincts insisted she slam forward.

Instead, she peppered Clarke’s beautifully-arched back with kisses, and slowly, laboriously, worked herself the rest of the way inside. Rubbing her fingers in light circles over the omega’s clit seemed to help the process considerably, and made more room for her cock’s steady glide forward. Once her hips jarred against Clarke’s gorgeous ass, she let them both adjust. The omega whined and panted for more even as her body stilled, but Lexa merely kept up the soothing, electrifying circles, rolling the blonde’s clit from its proud, rosy hood until the moaning came fast and thick.

“Lexa!” Clarke’s frustrated huffing became sharper. She slammed her hips back, and Lexa had to catch hold of them with both hands to keep the omega’s wriggling ass still. “Damn it, I said _give_ it to me…!”

Lexa caught her breath and chuckled, nosing against the omega’s pulse. “Greedy, aren’t you?” She nipped along the tender skin there, eliciting rasping sighs as she explained: “I don’t want to hurt you. It’s not your heat...”

Clarke wasn’t having any of it, however, and growled back at her, arching and catching Lexa’s ear in her sharp teeth. “You think I can’t take it?” She released the soft flesh, after a meaningful quick tug. “I can take it. C’mon Daddy, go hard.”

There was a brief pause between them in which they both processed what Clarke had just said, and Lexa was gauging how much of her enthusiasm to display. She settled on a low, rumbling growl and withdrew a scant few inches before plunging forward, starting a jerky, harsh rhythm, as her nails dug into Clarke’s ass. The omega howled her approval, head lolling on her shoulders and she raised herself higher, primitive instincts kicking in as her cunt opened for Lexa’s sharp thrusts. 

Wet, filthy noises filled the room, along with a blanketing thicket of mingled arousal perfumes, but neither could bring themselves to care about who might hear or smell their coupling. Lexa was overcome, overwhelmed. It had been a year or more since the last time she’d had sex, and that was with Costia, a beta, who didn’t draw her in like this, didn’t bring out these roaring, charging instincts to mount and bite. Sex with Costia had usually been pre-planned, as well, and the frantic, risky nature of this illicit fucking was arousing Lexa more than she’d thought possible. It all combined to send her into a primal frenzy; her shyness and insecurity evaporated into nothingness with the intensity of her desire.

“Such a dirty, greedy girl,” the alpha panted, lost in lust, raking her teeth against Clarke’s shoulder. Obscene words were tumbling out of her and she barely noticed. “You’re a… _hfff_ … slut getting fucked right here where Daddy wants it, huh?”

“Oh shit!” Clarke’s surprised, yelping cry was followed by a gush of wetness from her cunt and a clenching, rippling series of contractions that fisted along Lexa’s length, drawing her deeper.

She’s coming, the alpha realized, belatedly, as she groaned to feel herself being milked by the tensing waves of Clarke’s orgasm. She bit her lip almost bloody to stop from spasming into ejaculation, panting, as the omega shook and wailed, falling forward on her elbows onto the chair’s sturdy seat. The alpha keened with her, slowing her movements, as they rode out Clarke’s orgasm together.

But, all too soon, those thrusts sped up once more. She couldn’t help it. Her hips slapped against Clarke’s ass with a wet, satisfying sound, sending drops of their mingled wetness against her thighs, and the scent of Clarke’s orgasm was driving her on like a lash. Lexa was too far gone. She grunted and let her hands wrap around the omega’s hipbones, as she settled into a quick, hard rut, slamming the blonde back with each jerk forward.

Luckily, Clarke seemed quick to recover. “Oh God yes, fuck me, fuck me just like that, _yes_ …!” She babbled, whining into the wood of the chair as she pressed herself back for the alpha’s pounding thrusts.

Lexa was in heaven, and she never wanted her peak to arrive, but she could already feel it stirring in her cock. The base was swelling and if she was going to cum without knotting, she’d need to pull out. It was rapidly becoming impossible to do so, however, as Clarke’s pussy was pulsating and fluttering around her length like a siren’s song, and she was already beginning to push, without thinking. Her knot wasn’t as large as it would be if Clarke was in heat, but it was forming, and she was rocking it instinctively against the omega’s outer lips, nudging forward without her conscious thought.

“Yes, do it,” Clarke husked, encouraging as she nipped along Lexa’s quivering, undecided jaw. “Knot me, knot me, please, I _need_ your cum….need you to fill me… _ahh_ -!”

With the omega’s words, Lexa had groaned and pushed again, this time starting to split open Clarke’s pussy as her knot began to sink in. Clarke gave a sharp inhalation and her fingers splayed down over where they were messily joined, rubbing her clit to aid Lexa’s journey inside, and inadvertently brushing her knuckles against the wet base, which only made Lexa shudder and rock harder against her. All of their motions combined to ease the progression, and a cry was wrenched from two throats as Lexa’s bulging knot stretched Clarke’s pussy at the widest point, crowning, before popping inside with an overwhelming rush of sensation and an audible clicking noise.

“Ohgod _Clarke_ -“

Lexa groaned out a garbled mass of words, some of which may have been Clarke’s name, before a strangled grunt escaped her and she shuddered, lips brushing against the omega’s shoulder blade. Pleasure was searing her alive with a burning, stomach-curling rush that swamped her senses and flew along her veins. Her cock gave a twitch, and she groaned, unable to stop the grinding, instinctive thrusts as she held onto Clarke’s hips for dear life.

Pressure rang along her length and exploded in hot, pearly-white gobs from her tip, painting the pulsating inner walls as she jerked helplessly against Clarke’s ass. She let out something akin to a roar and slammed her hips, grinding them hard into Clarke as the omega cried out below. Her cock erupted with wave after wave of heavy warmth, filling the omega’s pussy and splashing back against her knot, drawing deep roars from her chest as she rumbled in ecstatic, unconscious triumph.

The primal sound triggered another wave of pulsing, fluttering jerks from Clarke. She began a rising wail, clenching in a spasmodic series of jerks that coaxed even more spurts from the pulsating length filling her depths, that terminated in a gasping, wrenching scream. Lexa realized dimly that Clarke was coming again, and it set off another firework inside her, drawing still-more fluid from the tip of her cock until she felt like she was drowning in it. She was flooding Clarke’s sweet cunt, and logically there should no more room, but still, impossibly, the pressure kept shooting along her shaft, pumping more.

Panting with pleasure, she rolled her hips and bit down again, not to induce a mating bite, but to hold Clarke still, to keep the seed inside. Her instincts drove her, and the last rutting jerks inside of the omega weren’t even registered as she gloried in the soft flesh under her exploring teeth and tongue. Clarke sagged against the chair, her face smashed into the seat and her hair a sodden, sweaty mess of gold, but Lexa nosed gratefully into it, inhaling her sex-drenched scent like a drug and her jaws worked, sucking hard on the crook of the omega’s neck, where it met her shoulder.

She’d leave a purpling bruise behind, enough to signify an alpha had been there, but not enough to claim Clarke as her own….even if she secretly already wanted to. It was too soon, for both of them. But the bruise there was a mark of her feelings, a quiet promise. Someday, when they were both ready…she let go of her mark and nosed it, soothing the flesh there with little kisses and nudges as Clarke breathed slowly below her, coming back to her senses.

“You okay?” She asked, when the silence was too much for her. She tucked some of Clarke’s hair aside and the omega smiled weakly up at her. Tears were leaking from her blue, hazy eyes, but she was beaming. “Clarke, are you crying?”

“You didn’t hurt me, you idiot.” The blonde giggled, sniffling a bit. She haphazardly smeared her hand across her face, and then gave up, so Lexa pushed her face closer and kissed her, softly. The action moved the knot inside of Clarke, drawing an aching, pleasurable moan into their shared mouths.

Clarke broke away and sighed, letting herself lean into the alpha’s embrace. Her knees were trembling. “That felt fucking amazing, and you know it…I just…you’re….” She let out an exhausted laugh, as if she had given up any pretense. “I really wanted that. For a long time.”

“You’re not the only one.” Lexa assured her, running her lips over her shoulder and down her spine as she re-adjusted so they would both feel more comfortable.

“Damn,” the omega suddenly breathed out with a little laugh. She waved a limp arm at the iPod speaker dock, where the time was displayed. “That was only four minutes and twenty three seconds?”

Lexa turned to look, and had to guffaw herself, leaning her forehead against Clarke’s spine. “Oh my God….no, you’re kidding me. I can’t believe that’s all it took.”

“That’s as long as it’s been since the last song. I guess the strippers must have the clock run to the second. Gotta get paid.” She turned to look over her shoulder at Lexa, who was shaking her head and laughing. “You really can’t be blamed, though. You got worked up real good by _two_ omegas first.”

“I got ‘worked up real good’ by one omega,” Lexa corrected her, eyes twinkling. “And it was you. Just you. I believe you said something about rocking my world?”

“Yep. Mission accomplished?” Clarke stretched, arching against Lexa to press her lips along the alpha’s jawline.

“Oh _yeah_.” The alpha breathed, and dipped to kiss her again. As amazing as it felt to be inside her, Clarke’s lips were rapidly becoming Lexa’s favorite place in the world.

“Mmm. Good.” Clarke nipped her upper lip, and sent another little electric pulse zinging through her skin. She turned back to the clock. “So that means we have….roughly twenty five-ish minutes until you need to pull out.”

“Ish.”

“Yes.” The omega rolled her hips back against Lexa’s knot, still inflated and barely containing the flood inside her. Lexa groaned and held Clarke’s hips still.

“Don’t do that.” She warned, setting her teeth back on the omega’s shoulder. “You’ll make me hard again.” She suspected this was entirely Clarke’s intention, and her suspicions were confirmed as the omega grinned and pushed back once more.

“Well,” Clarke purred, tossing a sly look over her shoulder at Lexa’s flashing eyes. “I mean, if you _only_ last four minutes…We should have plenty of time.”

The challenge was there, and it was taken up immediately. Lexa growled, giving real alpha authority to her rumbling, and was mildly appeased to see Clarke shudder and hunch submissively forward by unconscious instinct, but it wasn’t enough. Her ego needed satiating.

She grabbed Clarke hard by her hips and pulled them both back, tottering for a second with effort until she could slump to the ground with Clarke in her lap, her ass rounded against Lexa’s overheated pelvis. She slid her legs out and rolled the omega forward, pushing her into a riding position; albeit from behind. Clarke cried out and clutched at the alpha’s knees, flailing, but Lexa’s hands kept her firmly in place.

“Four minutes, my ass.” She growled at Clarke’s back, and felt herself harden once more, allowing her to thrust upwards. “You’re gonna pay for that remark.”

” _Jesus_!” Clarke yelped, and put her hands down between Lexa’s thighs to steady herself, rocking back on the knot and cock that filled her. “Yes, _fuckkk_ , make me pay for it, do it.”

Lexa intended to do just that. She took a firm hold of Clarke’s plush hip with one hand, digging into her hipbone, and with the other, brushed Clarke’s golden hair aside to grasp her shoulder. Using her handholds for leverage, she rammed upwards, driving the hot, hard spike of her cock inside once more, and sending shockwaves down her knot. She began at a blinding, fast pace, and the moans she wrenched out of Clarke were enough to make her grin.

By the time Clarke was screaming and panting her name, Lexa had forgotten all about watching the clock. Time had ceased to matter to her and she was simply a humping, thrusting animal, using Clarke’s helpless body like a rag doll as she pumped her hips. Her tip was full to bursting again, and delicious, aching pressure ran haywire down her shaft, driving her on and on, sending wrenching, delirious moans from the omega she held captive to her unceasing, brutal pleasure.

“How’s that feel?” She was savagely snarling into Clarke’s ear from behind as she lifted the omega’s helpless body up and down, manic in her desire. “How’s that _fucking_ _feel_ , _huh_? You like that? You like that, you little cumslut?”

The dirty words pouring from her lips were like an internal faucet had been turned on. She couldn’t seem to stop them, but she didn’t fully want to, either. Outside of sex, this kind of language would have scandalized and offended her, as someone who considered herself a feminist, and she was always railing against cis heterosexual porn standards and rape culture, so to be actively participating in it should have shocked her into flaccidity….but it didn’t. The guilt and the shameful delight of it all only conspired to further her filthy mouth.

And besides, Clarke absolutely did not seem to mind.

“Yes! Fuck yes! God, _use me_ , use me Daddy, _yesssss_!” The omega was screaming at the top of her lungs in the sweetest aria Lexa could imagine, and so she obliged, ramming into her from behind.

The orgasm snuck up on both of them. Lexa grunted in surprise as her cockhead exploded with warmth, and Clarke’s cataclysmic sob-screaming happened to reach climax with it, milking another steady stream of fluid from the alpha with her pussy’s contracting waves. Although she was already so full that her belly was as rounded as if she was significantly pregnant, Clarke’s instincts commanded her to draw the alpha’s cum further and further, so Lexa emptied herself, groaning with the hedonistic absolution of it.

Lexa slumped onto Clarke’s back, panting with exertion, as the last spurts ran in shuddering jerks from her cock. Her knot was barely keeping it in place, and she could feel herself already beginning to soften; the forceful, aggressive way she’d rammed into Clarke had exhausted her, and it would be at least a little while before she could go again, but satisfaction filled her every pore. Judging from the way Clarke sighed and sagged in her arms, leaning into her embrace, that feeling was very mutual.

“Is there any chance we could go to your place after this? These floors aren’t as nice as I imagine a bed would be.” Clarke suggested, her voice sounding glazed over with post-sex contentment.

“Yeah, I was hoping you’d want to come stay the night.” Lexa caressed her back. “Besides, looks like we’ve only got…” She craned her neck. “…six minutes left.”

“Okay, I guess that means I’m gonna have to stand up.” Clarke groaned as she tried lifting herself and her knees buckled. “Fuck, you ruined me.”

“Let me help.” Lexa gently lifted her, gasping as she felt herself begin to pull out. The sensation made them both groan a little, but there was a secondary rush. A river followed her cock, splashing to the floor.

“Oh shit.” She mumbled quietly, hoping Clarke wouldn’t notice, but that was an impossible dream at this point.

“What? Why are you-oh, goddam it, Lexa.” Clarke groaned in faux-exasperation. They both watched, awe-struck, as a flood of cum poured down her shaking thighs as Lexa supported her upright.

“Jesus, you don’t mess around.” The omega commented, sounding vaguely pleased.

“Nope.” Lexa shook her head, and reached over to the basket for a wet wipe, tearing it open. “I doubt this will help much, but here.” She was already tearing into a second as Clarke began dabbing. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not,” Clarke laughed, eyes bright even as she wiped cum from her reddened thighs. “This is the happiest I’ve been in a while.”

“Me too.” Lexa confessed, and stepped to her, kissing Clarke again as their joined hands made more of a mess than a clean up effort, tangled between her thighs.

When they drew apart, Lexa helped Clarke dispose of her sodden panties, and patted her dry as best she could, but counted herself lucky that her apartment building was a quick drive away. As she helped Clarke draw her skirt and blouse back on, the clock ran out. An official sounding knock came to the door, and just like that, their reverie was drawn to a close.

The blonde omega dancer greeted them in the hallway, smugly assessing their rumbled, disheveled states as Lexa blushed, uncontrollably. She widened her nostrils and took a deep sniff, an assessor’s grin playing on the edge of her mouth. “Okay you two, I’m assuming you enjoyed your ‘dance’, but just FYI…that’s gonna be an extra cleaning fee.”

Lexa snorted in admiration; this omega was no chump. But Clarke was clamoring about having already paid, so she withdrew her wallet quickly, and thumbed another twenty at the dancer, putting a finger up before Clarke could protest.

“Worth it.” She told Clarke’s rolling eyes as they exited, fumbling for her keys in the parking lot. “And we did make a mess. But-“ she drew her new lover in for another searing kiss. “-next time I’d prefer the lapdance somewhere with a bed.”

“Oh, that can absolutely be arranged.” Clarke told her breezily, sauntering over to the passenger side door.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on [ Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/bitterbones87) for more NSFW nonsense, BDSM advice, and general wlw trashdom.


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